


Kinktober: Body Worship

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anxiety, Body Dysphoria, F/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Reyja has a bad day. Julian makes it better.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Kinktober: Body Worship

I kick the door open so forcefully it slams into the wall, rattling the pretty panels of multicolored glass set in the wood. Of course. I can’t even control myself, how could I hope to do anything else? The sob lodged in my throat squeezes tighter, painfully tight, as I shamefully follow the door and press it closed, shutting off the world that proved too much for me today. I whisper an apology into the grain, my voice thick with unshed tears. I hate taking my anger out on things that don’t deserve it: the only thing that deserves it is me.

“Reyja?”

No. No, no, no, not today. Why today? Julian can’t see me like this. But there’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. His office is upstairs, where I had planned to retreat, and it’s from there that he called. If I don’t answer, he’ll come investigate. If I do, I won’t be able to keep the pain out of my voice. Too soon, I hear footsteps, the click of his boots on the floor above. I’m stuck, then. Finished. I sink into a ball, curled up with my knees against my chest and my back against the door, as small as I can make my fat, clumsy body. If he has to find me, at least let him look around a little first. I’ll prolong the inevitable while I still can.

“Darling, is that you?” Quick steps patter like raindrops as he jogs down the stairs. “I heard the door. I came home for lunch and there’s only paperwork left for the day, so I thought I would— Reyja!”

He must be running, from the sound of it. A cool hand touches my shoulder, another the back of my head. He’s so close I can feel the tickle of his hair against my bare arms. Were it any other day, I would lean into him, seeking the comfort of his embrace. But now? I can’t.

“Love, darling, what happened? Are you hurt? Please, my dearest, can you talk? How I can help?”

The more pet names he uses, the more panicked he is. His hands are flying over me, desperate to discover something wrong that he can fix, a wound to stitch or a bone to set. I don’t want to talk to him, but I suppose if I can apologize to a door, I can try to offer him some sort of explanation.

He sucks in a relieved breath when I lift my head out of the safe circle of my arms, but the light in his eyes is short-lived when he sees the look on my face. Before I can even open my mouth to speak, he folds himself down beside me. “Oh, my love,” he says simply. His hand hovers above my back for a moment before he begins to scratch gently between my shoulder blades. “Let’s just stay here for now, hmm? I won’t push you into, ah, into saying anything you don’t want to tell me or doing anything you don’t want to do. We’ll just stay right here.”

Of course he knows exactly what I need to hear. The dam I had to build up to get me home groans, the knot in my throat constricts, and my tears come out in a shuddering sob, curling me up again. I’m so ugly when I cry like this, and Julian deserves someone beautiful. Someone small and thin and light. Someone with long, flowing hair and a cute little face, smooth skin and delicate hands. Someone with big eyes you could fall into and elegant, shapely limbs and a slender neck. Someone with the type of beauty people write poetry about. But he has me. I don’t know how he can stand to look at me some days, much less touch me.

Yet he keeps rubbing my back, repeating soothing words as I cry and cry and cry. I’m sure my eyes will be bruised by the force: it’s happened before. He falters sometimes, pausing to wipe away tears of his own and then starting up his mantras again. Whether they’re for my benefit or his, by the time I’ve wept myself to silence I don’t think it matters. But I still don’t want him to see me all blotchy and red, leaking mucus and tears like a child. Again, though, he speaks before I can.

“May I take you upstairs, my darling? The bed’s certainly free, and I can vouch for its comfort myself.”

If I were to look, he would be smiling. I don’t know what to tell him; every argument I have for remaining crouched here on the floor is predicated on me deserving it, which he’ll counter with ridiculous notions of my inherent worth as a human being. I don’t want comfort. I don’t want him.

Both of those things are desperate, desperate lies.

Enough time must pass without me answering that he decides to take matters into his own hands. “I think that’s what we’ll do,” he says softly, shifting into a squat next to me. “Give me just a moment, dearest, and I’ll be right back for you. Don’t you move a muscle, alright?” He caresses the shell of my ear before standing and striding away, his footsteps disappearing up the stairs two at a time.

With my tears gone, I’m exhausted. I don’t feel any better, just drained and dull. Reluctantly, I lift my head from my arms once more and wipe my face on my shirt, turning the fabric dark. Of course. Even that’s enough to set my lip trembling, but I swallow the feeling. I’m hideous enough already. When I can bear to look in a mirror again, I’ll see if my eyes are as bruised as they feel. God… what have I done?

Noise from above signals Julian’s return.

“Right, the bedroom awaits. Shall we?”

It takes me a second to process what he’s asking, and I can’t stop myself from shooting him an incredulous stare once I do. He really can’t be serious.

He crouches down, eyes softening as he takes in the state of me. He must have a strong stomach if he’s not fleeing in disgust, but he is a doctor, after all. “I know what you’re thinking, Rey.” He reaches out to stroke my hair, tucking my bangs behind my ear. “Please let me carry you upstairs. After the day you must’ve had, it’s the least I can do.”

My voice comes out as a croak and I have to clear my throat before I can speak intelligibly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Julian. I have at least fifty pounds on you.” I look away, at anything but him. “If not more.”

“I know how much you weigh. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think I could…” He stops, frowning. “I’ve carried you before, darling. Please.”

He’s determined. That’s bad. I don’t think I have it in me to fight him if he’s going to fight me back. And the thought of being swept off my feet, cradled in his arms… “Yeah. I know.”

“May I do so again?”

He looks so hopeful, so frighteningly eager to help me. It makes my heart twist. “I guess.”

His smile alone could cure diseases. Without giving me a chance to change my mind, he slides one arm under my knees and the other between my back and the door. His massive shoulders bunch under his shirt, his thighs flex, and suddenly I’m six feet off the ground, my head level with his. He presses a light kiss to my cheek before starting for the stairwell. My arms wrap around his neck almost automatically; I don’t even realize they’re there until his shirt shifts with the change in slope and I’m touching skin instead of fabric.

He’s so much more than I ever could have hoped for. Who else could carry me, _me_ , up a whole flight of stairs? And sit with me while I cry, and somehow not be scared off by the sight of me afterwards? I bury my face in the crook of his neck and feel him hum as he nuzzles me. “That’s it, my love, that’s it. Just let me take care of everything. We’re almost there.”

He has to maneuver a little to turn into our bedroom once we reach the upper level, but he manages without knocking either his head or mine. It’s blissfully dark and quiet, curtains drawn, with the covers turned down and a glass of water waiting on the bedside table. He doesn’t just put me in bed, though, seating himself first then settling me on his lap, my head against his chest and his arms snug around me. His heartbeat’s a little faster than normal but otherwise he seems none the worse for wear bringing me up here. I have to say I’m both surprised and impressed, and yet more convinced that he should be with someone else, however much I want him to stay.

“What’s keeping you here?” I ask in the smallest voice I have. Part of me hopes he can’t even hear it.

But he does. “I love you, Reyja. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

“Why, though? Why me? You could have anyone, someone better than me, better than this.” I gesture in despair at myself, my body half-hidden by his embrace. “You deserve beauty, Julian. Grace. Elegance. Someone you can go out dancing with. Someone who—” Damn it, here come the tears again. “Someone you don’t have to do the calculations for before you try to pick them up. Why would you settle for me when you could have that?”

I expect him to push me away, but he only holds me closer. “There is no one better for me than you. I already have beauty. I have elegance. There’s nothing stopping us from going out dancing, if you wanted to. I’ll teach you every move I know! And as I believe I just proved, you fit very nicely in my arms.” He kisses my hair, pausing for a long moment with his nose tucked behind my ear. “Could you turn around for me?”

I’m crying again, so I’m sure I’m cherry red. But with all the lovely things he’s telling me, how can I not do this in return?

“There she is!” He grins at me and reaches out to wipe some of my tears away. “I want to, erm, prove something else to you, too. But I need your go-ahead first, because I’ll need to touch you for it.” He runs his hand down my cheek, my throat, my chest, slowly turning pink as he trails lower. “Quite a bit, as a matter of fact.”

I have to clear my throat again before I answer him. “Why?”

He meets my eyes with fiery intention. “I need you to know what I see when I look at you. I need you to know how beautiful you are, how, mmm, how seductive I find you, how I could never, not for one minute, ever think that anyone else could be as perfect for me as you. I need to show you that, my love. I won’t be able to rest until I do.”

Oh. Is that all? I’m stunned to silence for longer than I want to be, but at least I stop crying. “Julian…”

“Darling, the idea that you think I settled for you when you made all my dreams come true… it pains me more than I can say. For your sake, not mine.” He takes my hands and folds them into his. “You are everything I thought I could never have, Reyja. Please, let me show you.”

“I…” I never knew he felt so strongly about this. Of course I knew he loved me, but this? “Okay.”

“Thank you, dearest. Thank you so much.” He kisses me, cupping the back of my head. I have one fist balled in the loose folds of his shirt before I realize he’s lowering me flat to the mattress, his free hand working the ties of my belt until it slackens enough to slide down my body. I feel him smile against my lips before he pulls away. “Boots off first, I think. Then we’ll get to the rest.”

He retreats to my feet and begins to unlace my boots, taking his time like they are precious things rather than the same well-worn, boring old shoes I’ve always worn. All I can do is watch, propped up on my elbows; he shakes his head when I try to help. It isn’t long before one is loose enough to remove. He does so with reverence, cupping my heel and cradling my calf, massaging the muscles there. His hands are deft and strong, and I’m just getting used to the push and rub of his fingers when he lets out a groan of admiration.

“Oh, Rey, have I ever told you how much I love your feet? Not like that, I know you don’t like that…” He laughs. “But the arch of them, the line of your toes. Not many people have toes like yours, you know.” He pauses his massage to lay his palm along them. “See that? They make an almost perfect diagonal.”

“Does that mean something?”

He shrugs. “Possibly. Though if it does, it’s not something I’m aware of. But I love it all the same, just because of you.”

He lifts my foot up to kiss it then switches his attention to my other leg to work that boot free too. “And your calves! Darling, your calves. You wrap your legs around me when we make love and I feel them press against my back… oh, it’s divine. So shapely and firm.” His fingers blaze a trail down the curve of my calf muscle and around my ankle. “Flowing into such solid, lovely ankles. A marvel of anatomy, you are.” Two more kisses, then, one on the jut of my ankle bone and the other on the side of my calf.

“Hmm…” Julian studies me, eyes darting over my body. “Where to next? You’re like a buffet of my favorite foods, my dear. I’m overwhelmed with choice. How about… these?” He takes my hand and winks at me before bringing my fingers up and tracing the bow of his lips with the points of my nails. Carefully, he pushes my index and middle fingers into his mouth and caresses them with his tongue, coating them thoroughly until his eyes roll back. He’s always been weak for that. I pull them out myself, taking a moment to tease him by rubbing some of his saliva onto his bottom lip. He licks after me, meeting my gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, and swallows hard before he regains enough composure to speak.

“Oh, I could do that for hours, even without the fun that usually follows. Your hands are the perfect size, my love. Perfect to hold, perfect to suck on, perfect to, ahhh, to reach that spot that makes me just melt, doesn’t it?” He meshes his hand with mine, his grin almost bashful this time. “See? Made to measure.” He kisses the middle of my palm after unfurling his fingers and doesn’t stop, placing a line of attention up my arm until he reaches my shoulder then jumping over to my other side and reversing the process.

“And of course,” he says, muffled between kisses, “we have your beautiful arms. They were one of the first things I noticed about you, did you know that?” He picks up my arm and makes me flex, showing the lines of muscle beneath my skin. “Mmm, so strong. Let me feel… ah, yes! Gorgeous! And under?” I flinch involuntarily as he nears a ticklish area, but he doesn’t pursue it. Instead, he strokes the underside of my upper arm away from my body, towards my elbow. “So soft. So smooth. But still muscle underneath, isn’t there?”

With my belt gone, my shirt is easy to remove. He takes the hem in both hands, and his bottom lip between his teeth, and pulls it up over my head after pressing a farewell kiss to my other hand. He gasps openly in appreciation of what he finds, though he’s seen me naked many times before. I shake out my hair to avoid looking at him, or myself.

“Reyja North, I swear you grow more beautiful every time I see you.”

We just had sex a few nights ago, so I’m not quite sure what he’s talking about. If it weren’t Julian, I’d swear he was making fun of me.

“How do you do that? No, don’t tell me. I’d rather it be a mystery. A magician must have her secrets.” He winks at me again.

“You’re full of shit, Jul.” But there’s no venom behind it, and he can tell. He lays his head on my soft belly and peers up at me with his most innocent expression, honed by years of practice.

“You could always punish me with a good smothering?”

“Oh, I see your game.”

“I thought you might.” He kisses a circle around my navel, rubbing the rolls on either side of my stomach with both hands. “My god, I love you. I love every bit of you, every ounce, every mole and mark and fold. Everything.” His hot breath, growing more labored by the second as he talks himself into arousal, stirs the fine hairs on my stomach and arms as I reach out to stroke his face. He pushes into my touch and groans when I run my fingers along his scalp to tug at the roots of his hair.

“I love you too, Julian. So much. I can't… I can’t thank you enough for just, just being you. And being here.”

He kisses my navel again, then my diaphragm, then my sternum as he crawls up my body. I’m still wearing my bra, but he lingers on my collarbones, sucking red marks into them until I squirm and I’m panting as hard as he is. “There is nowhere in any realm I would rather be than right here, with you,” he tells me, his voice husky and warm. “Loving you is what I was made for and I take pride in it. And in you.” He levers himself up to look me in the eye. “I am so unbelievably proud to call you my partner, Reyja, and to have you call me yours. Comforting you, living with you, loving you, even, ah — or especially, ha! — fucking you senseless…” His face colors and he ducks into my chest. When he lifts his head, he’s wearing the same soft smile he’s had all afternoon, the one he saves just for me. “I wouldn’t trade any of it for a single moment with anyone else.”

It’s almost too much to take in. He’s so wonderful, so good to me. How could I have doubted him? I feel like I could do anything with him beside me. We fought the Devil, after all, and that was before we were this close. Who knows what we could do now.

“I needed this,” I finally say. It isn’t enough, but it’s something.

Julian surveys me through hazy eyes, blush high on his cheeks and lip between his teeth again. Slowly, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off, tossing it to the floor on top of mine. “I need you.”


End file.
